The sun was rising, and the chilled morning air did Adam no favors. He stood under a tattered awning, in some alley. He pulled out a lighter, and a cigarette. He lit the tobacco and took a puff. Tasted like sewage. Maybe it was the dirty air in the alley, or the asshats smoking pot right behind him. Adam never enjoyed cigarettes, and he wasn’t going to any time soon. Sighing, he took notice of his surroundings. Some people with nowhere else to go had resided in the far end of the alley. A raccoon ran by, being chased by god knows who or what. A radio playing in the midst of the silence and noise only a city could produce reminded Adam why he was here. 55 dead. Nearly all Reapers. The alley slowly emptied, as the day progressed. A vendor’s cart opened up on the main street. Adam sighed, and walked down the alleyway, to the large metal door. He knocked once. No answer. He knocked again. No answer. He sighed, and turned the knob. The idiots had left the place unlocked

	Adam entered the large warehouse. He saw that the resident suppliers car was missing. They had gone out. Great. Walking towards the garage area, Adam found what he had been looking for: Gasoline. He took several gallons, and spread them across the warehouse floor. He turned to the garage. Pulling up a stepladder, he began to mess with the door mechanism. After 10 minutes of fiddling, the deed was done. When they pulled in, whether it be sooner or later, their entire storage area would go up in smoke. It’s what they got for supplying terrorists, if his intel was to be believed. As he walked down the main road, he heard the door open, then flames, and the screams of idiot kids who didn’t know what they had gotten into. This was Rosen. There would be no investigation, and nobody would miss them. One rival down, the entire city to go.